Home is where the heart is
by x-Athenea-x
Summary: The gang is having dinner at the Novotny's but Blake just isn't feeling at home. After a confrontation with Emmett, he decides to do something that might change his future. For the better, or for worse?


'Home is where the heart is'

Michael, Ben, Emmett, Ted, Blake, Vic and Debbie sat at the kitchen table, sharing stories of all the little things they done the past week. Debbie had invited all the boys over for dinner since she wanted to celebrate Mother's day. She regarded all of the boys as hers, after all … she did feed them nearly daily at the Diner, gave them advice even when they didn't need it and she always had a shoulder for each and everyone of them to cry on. In the course of the years, she had grown fond of them. At first, she didn't really like Brian because she knew he was trouble. She just knew he'd get her Mikey into trouble but at the same time, she also suspected that Brian needed a place to call a home. She may not have encouraged Mikey's friendship with Brian but when he was around, she made sure he felt at home. Just in case his parents decided to be mean to him again. Mikey sometimes mentioned little things that made her suspect neglect. She never had any solid proof but she always tried her best to show Brian that he was welcome, even though it sometimes was with slight reservation in her heart. Over the years, more friends came over. Some of them briefly said hello and then parted ways, but some stuck around. Like Emmett, Teddy, Justin and Brian. And after a while, they became her friends too.

They all showed up promptly on time with the exception of Brian and Justin. She was used to their tardiness and looked forward to ripping them a new arsehole for being late. 'It's their loss anyway', she thought. 'The marinara sauce is getting cold. So it's cold pasta for those two idiots.'

Two hours later, she was still in the kitchen with the boys, who were giving Debbie a hand with the dishes after their long and hearty meal. The room was filled with laughter and as she looked at her boys, she felt proud and happy. 'My house is a home' she thought. 'A home for family and friends'

Blake had quietly slipped upstairs for a 'toilet break'. But honestly, he just needed to get away. He was sitting at the table surrounded by happy and smiling faces and he had never felt so out of place. He faked his smiles and laughed at jokes he didn't find funny. He exchanged pleasantries and shook hands politely but in his heart of hearts, he felt as if his soul was dying.

He sat at the top of stairs and looked directly at the door downstairs. He heard the chatter and mirth and remembered the amount of love and support during dinner. He never knew anything like it. He was amazed at how _nice _everyone is. There was no screaming, no slamming doors, no gulping down your supper because you just wanted to get out of there. He was surprised at how even when they're bickering, they still remained civil and playful. He grew up as the eldest of a big family so dinnertime was often chaotic, loud and unpleasant. His parents worked hard to keep the family fed, often missing dinners and important events to ensure that they had a little money to get them by. The responsibilities of caring for them came down to him and his sister so most nights, they prepared dinner, put it on the table and made sure they all ate something and didn't kill each other in the process. His sister was always better at handling everything. She was organized, self assured and a real mother to them. Blake, on the other hand, was older yet less mature. He was still struggling with his identity, with his parents and everything he did, just didn't seem good enough. He felt like a burden and a failure as a big brother. In the end, he left, seeing how money was tight and how his presence did the family more harm than good. He always vowed that he would leave, get a good job, save some money and when he got his act together, he would go back home and make them proud. Instead, he fell from one mistake into another and finally, he had found himself at the bottom of the bottle with no home, no place to stay, no job and no friends. He managed to get addicted to meth and his future looked glum at best. That was until Ted came along and showed him that perhaps, he wasn't as rotten as he thought he was.

He stared blankly at the door in front of him, uneasy and not knowing how to deal with everything he was feeling. 'I could leave,' he thought. 'Just slip downstairs and open the front door. With all the noise they're making, no one would notice, no one would miss me.'

And then, as if on cue, he heard Ted's voice in the distance. 'Yeah, I'm sure Brian stopped at the 7-Eleven to buy some wine … or to do Justin in the alley right next to it.'

And just like that, he knew running away was not the answer. How could I do that to Ted?' he thought. 'Ted, of all people! The one person who still had some faith in me. I couldn't hurt him like that. And … what would I do without him?'

He shook his head, as if by force he was willing to suppress the urge to escape. He grasped the railing of the stairs when he suddenly felt lightheaded, as if he was hovering over the ground, detached from his earthly bond. 'Oh no,' he moaned. 'Not again, not now'

He knew the symptoms too well. Every time he waited too long before the next hit, the same thing happened. He groaned as suddenly every inch of his body was itching. He started scratching feverishly, his nails digging into his skin. But the more he scratched, the worse it got. It felt as if ants were crawling just underneath his skin and no matter how hard he scratched, he could not get any relief … They were there, always there, underneath the surface, eating away at his flesh and muscles. They wouldn't stop, the ants. He could _feel_ them. He knew that they would keep eating until there was nothing left of him. He could just feel them, crawling and biting. 'Stupid ants,' he whispered, the anger in his voice slightly shocking him. 'Stupid fucking ants'

He looked down and saw that he had scratched so hard that he had drawn blood. The skin on his arm was red, raw and sore. He covered up his cuts with the sleeves of his shirt. No one would be none the wiser. 'The burden to carry is mine alone' he thought.

He took a deep breath and tried to steady his shaking hands but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't. He noticed he was sweating a lot, despite having chills running up and down his spine. His joints ached even if he didn't move and his heart was beating so fast within his chest. He heard a voice behind him, calling out his name, but when he turned around to see, no one was there. 'Blake, you're losing it' he softly whispered. One symptom of withdrawal he hated the most were the hallucinations and the paranoia. He could handle the physical ones but most of the times it's the mind tricks that fucked him over and lured him back to the drugs.

Another deep breath. He smelled a perfume that he remembered from the past but he couldn't remember where, when or how. It was vague yet familiar and a memory popped up but as quickly as it came, it vanished. He felt as if he was being watched by someone and he kept looking over his shoulder or suddenly turning around but never once did he catch them in the act. But he could still feel them, the judging eyes burning holes in his back.

It was all in his head; the thoughts, the ideas and images. All in his head, bringing him to the brink of sanity. Blake could barely tell what's real and what wasn't. All those thoughts invaded his mind and panic rushed over him, like an avalanche burying the mountains. He suddenly felt _everything. _All the noises sounded too loud; the laughter in the kitchen, the hushed whispers of the ghosts that were never there, the TV, the cutlery banging against the table, the scratching of the carpet underneath his feet, his breathing. It all resounded too loudly inside his head and he forcefully covered his ears with his hands, desperately trying to push away the sound. He shut his eyes as the light suddenly seem to burn his retinas. The lamps were too bright, too harsh for his eyes. He could feel a burning ache scalding his eyeballs. He could feel everything, the shirt resting so heavily against his skin, his trousers too tight and they seemed to press against his organs, the bands of his socks seem to cut off the circulation.

He could feel it all happening at once and before he knew it, he was hyperventilating and dry heaving. It felt as if the whole world he lived in was trying to get to him, as if he was being hunted by an invisible hunter, ready to strike at any second. He felt invisible hands clutch around his throat, determined to squeeze until the last puff of air had been breathed. Blake gasped and tried to take gulps of air into his body. In vain, because he felt his throat contract and the hands grasping him further.

He ran to the bathroom, stumbling along the way, dropped to the floor and vomited violently into the toilet, just in the nick of time. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and collapsed onto the floor. He wept for what seemed an eternity, silently and alone, still visibly shaking and trembling.

It had been 2 days, 6 hours, 45 minutes and 10 seconds since the last time Blake had touched his crystal meth. But at that moment it felt like an eternity to him.

Downstairs no one was really aware of what Blake was going though. Everyone was having a good time and time just passed. No one really noticed he'd been gone for so long. Except for one person. Emmett Honeycutt.

Emmett had been wary of Blake since the moment he first met him. Well no, he disliked him the moment he first saw him because he was the typical twink that was charming but too much trouble to handle. But since the moment Emmett had entered Ted's hospital room and saw him lying unconscious in a hospital bed with tubes and wired coming out of him, he had hated Blake with every fibre of his being. Emmett had sat next to Ted, hour after hour and night after night, holding Ted's hand and talking to him – and on occasion even singing those Judy Garland songs – just so he would wake up. With a terrified heart, he had hoped, prayed and wished for Ted to regain consciousness. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Teddy, the one friend he knew he could count on for anything. He hated Blake for making him go through that. He hated Blake for hurting Ted – _his _Teddy.

Emmett politely excused himself from the kitchen and tiptoed to the 1st floor. He passed Justin's bedroom, Debbie's room, the junk room and then he saw a sliver of light coming from underneath the door to the bathroom. He quirked up an eyebrow and slowly walked towards the door, attentively listening for sounds that seemed unusual. He knocked twice and stayed silent.

'Bathroom's occupied' Blake said, his voice hoarse.

'Are you going to be long?' Emmett asked. 'I'm dying for a piss.'

'Uhm' Blake replied. 'Just a second.'

Emmett waited outside the door, curious yet cautious. He heard sudden clashing noises, a toilet flushing and a sound that reminded him of an elephant's trumpeting.

The door slowly creaked open and Blake exited, his face half-hidden by a hoodie, his cap covering his hair and half his face, and he quickly passed Emmett. A bit too quickly for Emmett's liking.

He swiftly grabbed Blake by the arm and pushed him against the wall, both of Emmett's hand planted on Blake's shoulders. Emmett may appear thin but he was still a lot taller than Blake and when angered, the southern side of him got out and he got fierce. There was nothing that angered Emmett more than someone hurting his friends. Not just his friends, but especially Ted. He felt as if someone had poured oil over the pit of fire in his stomach that had been simmering even since the day he first met Blake. Emmett let go of Blake's shoulders but his hand was still strongly wrapped around Blake's wrist. But it wasn't the physical contact that kept Blake there; it was Emmett's fiery gaze that kept him on the spot.

Blake shot him a look of pure anger and because of that brief glimpse of eye contact, Emmett saw the red rimmed eyes and the twitches around his nose. 'You've been using,' Emmett raged. 'In Debbie's bathroom.'

Blake grunted as he tried to shake off Emmett. 'No' he firmly said.

To Emmett, Blake appeared weakened, sickly even. Which only confirmed his suspicions. 'Debbie invited you into her house, her home because Ted trusts you. She fed you. She took you in as one of her own.' Emmett continued. 'And YOU. DARE. To USE. In her HOME.'

'You don't get it, Emmett,' Blake desperately tried. 'Please … listen.'

Emmett relinquished his grip on Blake but his angry body language never left him. 'You've got 3 minutes before I punch you. I meant what I said. I will break your face if you hurt Ted.'

'I'm not trying to hurt him' Blake whimpered. 'I'm not'

'You aren't?' Emmett responded heatedly. 'Tell me, did you visit him in the hospital? Did you cry over him when he was fighting for his life? Were you the one who had to talk to his mother and tell him his son might die because he put his faith in a little tweaking shit that abused his trust? Did you even CARE he nearly died?'

'Of course I care.' Blake earnestly whispered. 'I feel guilty about it. I care about him, Emmett. A lot'

'I don't think you do' Emmett responded. 'Because if you really cared… if you truly cared about Ted, you wouldn't be here. You would be as far away from him as you can. I don't doubt that you have feelings for him but this … you being here and dragging him into your pill popping and shit snorting world … that's not caring about someone. That's destroying them. That's pure selfishness.'

Blake whimpered. 'I … I …' he stammered. 'I love him.'

Emmett looked into Blake's eyes, tears running down his cheeks, and felt a pang of sympathy. He knew all too well what it's like to be lost and hoping for salvation in any way any how. His voice lowered and his shoulders sloped. He realised that Blake, besides being a threat to Ted's well being, he was also a boy, barely a man, that was searching for himself and searching for answers. He was just a kid that got into trouble and didn't know how to get himself out of it. He averted his eyes from Blake and turned his heart into stone, to do what was right for his friend, to do what was necessary. 'Perhaps you do … but if you love him, then you'll let him go. He doesn't belong in your world. He's better than that. If you love him, you'll go away and get your act together.'

'I can't,' Blake whispered. 'I need him. I can't do this without him.'

'You'll end up destroying him,' Emmett resisted. 'He's already ended up in the hospital once, because of you.'

'I didn't know' Blake cried. 'I didn't know he'd …'

'I stand by what I said.' Emmett murmured. 'If you want to prove that you love Ted, you go away and never return. If you need money, I'll give you some.'

Emmett slipped a 20 dollar note in his hand, turned on his heels and walked away from him. He could hear Blake softly snivelling and the soft lamentations cut through him like ice. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his hands into fists. 'It's the right thing to do,' Emmett thought, as if he needed to convince himself. 'Think about Ted in the hospital.'

As he walked down the stairs, he knew he may have been too hard on Blake but his only concern was Ted. He heard footsteps behind him and immediately knew Blake was following him.

In the living room they both stood still. Emmett watched Blake switching his gaze from the front door to the kitchen and back, as if he was trying to decide what to do. He prayed that for once the young kid would make the right call.

With a sigh, he averted his eyes and looked at the ground. With the last shred of strength, he let go of everything he had put his hopes on. 'Please … tell them I … left … and take care of him. He's everything I …' his voice faltered and he tried to swallow a lump that refused to budge in his throat. 'Oh, he knows.'

Silently he crept out of Debbie's house, making sure that the door didn't make too much noise as it locked in the doorframe.

Emmett, on the other side of the door, breathed a sigh of relief. And as quickly as relief came, trepidation took its place. Somehow he needed to explain and convince Ted that not seeing Blake was the best thing for him. Courage failed him and when Ted walked up to him, he merely mumbled that Blake had to leave because he wasn't feeling well.

'Maybe I should go after him. I can make him some chicken soup or something.' Ted protested.

'Honey, Debbie's pasta gave him the runs … do you want to explain that to Debbie?' Emmett said light-heartedly. 'Also … I've tasted your chicken soup' he paused. 'It might not be the best thing for him… besides he said he just needed a bed to lie on, he'll be fine.'

Without further listening to Ted's protests, Emmett walked back into the kitchen and started up a conversation with Debbie, ignoring Ted and his lamentations. His heart broke, but it never showed on his face. He smiled broadly and acted as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn't torn inside, caught between empathy and loyalty.

On the other side of the door, Blake wrapped his hoodie closer to his chest, swearing loudly and fiercely wishing he had not forgotten his coat in Ted's flat.

He stared at the sky above him. The night was dark and the moon hung low, the moonbeams giving Pittsburgh a hauntingly beautiful yet unearthly glow. It was nearing autumn and the air felt cool but still gleamed with a hint of summer. He breathed in the cold evening air and for a second he steadied his nerves. But soon again, the tremors started again and the ants were back, crawling underneath the surface and tearing at every inch of his being.

With no place left to run, he aimlessly wandered the streets of Pittsburgh and wondered what on earth he was going to do and where he was going to sleep tonight. He sighed and surrendered. 'This is all I am. One giant mess, a heart bleeding and a torn soul, enveloped by loss and grief. This is all I am. A lost stray dog that needs to begs for scraps of food and whimpers to be petted. This is what I am, pathetic, a loser, a low life, an addict.'

He was briefly touched by love and that had given him hope. His lover's strong embrace had sheltered him from harm and wrapped him in a blanket of safety, tenderness and care. For the first time in his life, someone had seen him and cared for him. Someone had actually liked him for who he was and loved him despite everything that was wrong with him. And now that someone had ripped him away from the protection of his blanket, he felt colder than he'd ever been. He wrapped his hands around himself, trying desperately to regain some the warmth, but despite efforts his insides slowly turned to ice. He thought of Ted and anxiously wished he could talk to him, hold him and let his soothing kindness wash over him but he knew he could never have that again. He knew it was for the best. As much as he yearned to run to Ted and kiss him until the pain faded, he knew that his kisses were poison, only born on his lips to pass on the venom.

He passed drunk twinks, horny bears, teens out on the town, loud bars and heavy thumpa thumpa music. He didn't really hear the noise, enveloped in his own thoughts and pushed away by his deafening pain. At the moment he passed Woodies, he stopped. He decided to enter and just have one quick drink – or something else, with the last 20 dollars that he had.

The moment he entered he had regretted the decision. He was still hypersensitive to everything but he knew that with one drink and one hit, he'd be fine. Amidst the crowd he sought out Harry, his dealer, and made the buy. Quickly as he could, he made his way to the bathroom and selected a booth. Before he could enter, someone had grabbed his hand, gentle yet firm. He looked at the man he had touched him, peeved and craving for his drug, and stared into two blue pools of eyes, a boyish smile and a big head of blond hair.

'You're the guy who's fucking Ted, right?' the boy said. 'Blake, was it?'

'Euhm … yeah,' Blake responded, with his other hand he quickly hid the bag of meth in his pocket. 'And you … are?'

'Justin,' the boy replied. 'Justin Taylor. Ted's friend.'

He smiled broadly at Blake, a glow radiating from his smile. Justin politely shook his hand and he eyed up Blake from head to toe. He noticed the trembling hand, the red-rimmed eyes, the greyish tone of his skin and the unmistakable shake in his voice. 'Are you okay?' Justin kindly asked, trying his best not to sound intrusive.

'Yeah,' Blake replied, but as tears danced gracefully over his lashes, he knew he sounded everything but convincing.

In the corner of his eyes, Justin saw Brian enter the bathroom. Swiftly, he dragged Blake into the nearest stall and closed the door shut behind them. It was a cramped space and they both stood facing each other, their bellies slightly touching. Justin put his hand over his mouthed and beckoned Blake to stay quiet. They breathed in unison, remaining as silent as they could.

'Wasn't that your boyfriend?' Blake whispered when Justin released him, still not quite sure what was going on.

Justin scoffed, his eyes suddenly dull. 'I wish. But he fucks me occasionally. He's hot, though, isn't he?'

'Why are we hiding from him, Justin?' Blake asked, going back and fourth from suspicion to worry.

And then that devious smile was back on Justin's face. 'Because I want to fuck him tonight, in his bed. Not at Babylon.' Justin laughed and winked. 'I'm pretty good at getting what I want. And I know he's hunting for me tonight. I've been driving him crazy all night. I know these pants make my ass look fucking amazing. I'm making him want me. If I make it too easy for him, he'll just fuck the next pretty thing he sees. I need to make him work for it.'

Blake laughed, even if it was just to humour Justin. He smiled at him though, a genuine smile despite his discomfort, and was glad he had some company. Someone to spend a few minutes with and to forget what had happened.

Justin looked at him again and noticed Blake looked simply exhausted. Justin was worried since Blake looked like he was about to crash. 'Hey, do you perhaps want to get out of here. Go somewhere a bit more quiet?' he asked with an air of innocence and casualness. Immediately he noticed Blake tensing up. 'Oh,' he added as soon as he realised it sounded like he was coming on to Blake. 'No, I don't want to fuck you. I mean, you're hot but I know you love Ted.'

Blake scoffed. 'That would make you the only one.'

'What do you mean?' Justin asked.

'Every one of Ted's friends want me gone. Out of his life.' He sighed heavily and he didn't even stop the tears from falling. 'And I can't even fucking blame them.' He let his head fall back and rest against the booth's walls. For a second he closed his eyes and let the noise drown out his thoughts. He felt gentle fingers brush away the tears from his cheeks. When he opened his eyes, he was staring directly into Justin's ocean blue eyes that shone through with kindness.

'Fuck them,' Justin said. 'Who gives a shit about them. You love Ted and Ted loves you. That's all that matters.'

Blake smiled at him. 'I wish I could think like that.'

'What's stopping you?' Justin asked.

'Reality,' Blake sarcastically countered. 'You're still young, you should believe in that'

'Reality is what you make of it' Justin said. With a boyish smiled he added 'And fuck that, you're … what … 3 years older than me?'

Blake smiled, caught off guard and charmed by Justin's wit. 'What would you do?' he asked. 'If you were no good for Brian and you hurt him so badly that there's no turning back, would you stay or go?'

'Is this about Ted OD'ing?' Justin asked.

'Yeah, it's my fault.'

'How?' he asked. 'Ted could've said no. He's the smartest guy I know. He could've just ignored you.'

'I brought the stuff into his house. It was because of me that he used. I'm to blame.' Blake said, his composure demure. 'Emmett's right. I'm no good for him.'

'Look, fuck Emmett. Listen, if it was up to Brian's friends then I would've been gone since day one. But I didn't leave and now they're my friends too. You can't just give up like that.'

'You're not a tweaker' Blake bit back, a little more aggressive than he should've. 'You don't know what it's like. Everything I touch, burns and withers.'

'No' Justin complied. 'I may not understand. But I love Brian. Just like you love Ted.'

'I do but sometimes love just isn't enough. What you do, can't get Brian in hospital. Or worse killed.' Blake shook his head feverishly. 'No, no … that can't happen. I can't hurt him. If he gets hurt or God forbid, dies because of me. I … wouldn't forgive myself. Ever. He's better than anyone I've ever met. He deserves so much more than I have to offer'

Justin shrugged. 'If you truly believe that, then why not offer him more. Stop taking that shit and get it together. Be the man you think he deserves. If not for yourself, then at least do it for the man you love.'

Blake groaned loudly as his body involuntarily began shaking again. His breathing was starting to get laboured and the tiny bathroom stall was starting to make him feel claustrophobic, which is something he knew wouldn't aid the pending paranoia.

'Blake, are you okay?'

'Yeah,' Blake replied, his voice thick with exhaustion. 'I just need to … sleep for a bit.'

'Come on,' Justin said. 'I'll walk with you. Where is your home?'

'Everywhere,' Blake replied, solemnly. 'And nowhere.' Justin looked at him with a confused expression on his face. Blake smiled weakly in response. 'There's a shelter down the street. I can't go home tonight but I know they have a place for me.'

'A shelter?' Justin asked, apprehensively. 'Are you sure you can't stay with friends?'

'I just walked out on the friends that would help,' Blake sighed heavily. 'My other friends … let's just say we don't have picnics in the park or play cards together.'

'I was alone, too' Justin said after a brief moment of silence. 'I came out and my dad kicked me out. There was my friend, Daphne, but she doesn't understand. She tries to, though, but her hands were tied. I lost my home too. But I found Brian and because of him, I have a place to stay and new friends.' He paused for a minute. 'I'm sure it'll happen for you too'

'Thanks,' Blake said, purely out of politeness. He knew Justin was trying to help but it all seemed a bit surreal to him. His words just sounded so naive and he couldn't possibly believe he could ever be that lucky. 'I'll be okay, don't worry.'

'I'm still walking you out,' Justin declared stubbornly. 'No use in protesting. I told you, I get what I want.'

'Really,' Blake countered. 'I'll be fine.'

'Don't worry, we all can use a bit of company. Been there, done that.' Justin smiled deviously. 'Besides, I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone. I just have to make sure Brian sees me walk out of the bar with a hot guy. I love making him jealous. He always fucks me harder when he's jealous.' In a flash, he took Blake's hand and dragged him out the bathroom and out of Woodies, but not before winking and waving at Brian.

Blake saw Brian quirk up an eyebrow and make an attempt to follow them out. He could see Brian struggling to control his impulses and to just stay there. In the reflection of the mirror that hung right next to the exit of the bar, he could see a black haired guy trying to chat up a sulking Brian. He laughed inwardly. 'Brian Kinney bit off a bit too much than he can chew with Justin' he gingerly thought.

They stepped outside out the pub, still holding hands, and walked down Liberty Avenue. It was nearing midnight but the streets were filled with people having fun.

Justin smiled at a dark haired man, gorgeous and mysterious. 'Hey Tod, how's it going?'

The man waved and nodded. They passed two dancing drag queens and a bunch of friends walking from one pub to another. Even though the streets were noisy, there was an uncomfortable silence between Blake and Justin.

'Did you use, Blake? Tonight.'

Immediately, Blake let go of Justin's hand. 'No, I haven't used in days.' He paused. 'Ted … he told me that everything would be okay if I stopped. After I detoxed, I could move on. Start a job, and a new life … with him. He took me in and helped me during the first hours. Those are the toughest. I haven't touched anything. Because he wanted better for me.'

'And now?' Justin asked. If you're not going back to Ted, what happens next?'

'Now nothing matters anymore.' Blake stopped at a little run down house, reserved and demure next to the flamboyant buildings of Liberty Avenue. There was a little sign on the lawn that said 'Got no place to go? Come in for a hot meal, a shower and a bed. We don't judge and we don't turn you away'

'This is my stop,' Blake said as he walked up to the door. He knocked twice and the door eerily opened. An older man stood behind the door and smiled, one tooth missing in the front. 'Do you need a place to stay?'

Blake nodded. At that moment, he truly felt alone. He turned to say goodbye to Justin, his voice catching in his throat. 'Thanks for everything.'

'You're welcome.' Justin replied. He sneaked a peek inside and noticed the house was unclean, several dodgy looking people walked around the place and it reeked of decay and vomit.

'It's a busy night' the man said. 'We're swamped and we're holding our heads barely above water'

Blake averted his eyes. 'Please, anywhere will do'

Justin could see the man's heartache for Blake. His eyes dropped and the old man contorted his face into a pained grimace. Eventually he nodded and opened the door. 'There's a couch at the back, you're welcome to use it. I can't guarantee you'll sleep well though'

'That's okay, I'll manage. Thank you' Blake said, as if he had been given a winning lottery ticket.

Justin grabbed his arm, causing Blake to swiftly turn around. 'Are you sure you want to stay here? It doesn't exactly look … safe or sanitary'

'It's better than staying on the streets, you'd be surprised how dangerous Liberty Avenue can get. Before you know it, someone's stolen your tiara.' Blake faked a smile.

Justin gave him his best 'don't-even-try-to-play-me'-look. 'I could ask Brian if you can sleep on his couch for a few days …'

'No,' Blake stated, forcefully. 'Thank you' he added more kindly 'But no. I meant it, I'm staying away from Ted and his friends'

Justin resigned. In the end, Blake needed to find his own way home. 'Just promise me one thing … throw away that bag of meth you bought at woodies.'

Justin sighed, grabbed a pamphlet from the side of the door and walked away from Blake. On the streets, a man shouted 'Justin, where have you been?'

A brown haired man that Blake suspected was Brian hugged Justin and kissed him passionately. He smiled at the sight but it never reached his eyes. He was happy Justin had him but at the same time, a pang of hurt went through him, wishing upon wish and hoping upon hope that he could hold Ted like that again.

He entered the house and actively tried to ignore the filth, the passed out people on the floor, the puddles of vomit and the all around putrid stench that clung to the walls. He saw the empty couch and hurried towards it. He sat down, took out the little bag and stared at it. Then he looked around the room, taking in the miserable state of everyone and everything around him. 'This is what I am, this is what I deserve. What comes next?' If he could cry, he would cry for an eternity. But he went through so much the last couple of years that pain, loneliness and heartache where his constant companion. It was as if he was used to feeling pain and despair. It wasn't until the last couple of weeks that he had felt something else: hope.

But that had been silenced forcefully. All what was left, was his own sorrow and a little bag containing the one thing that made his life go from bad to worse.

On the other side of town, the boys and Debbie were having a late night snack just as Brian and Justin entered the door.

'Right on time for ice cream,' Mikey said, with a boyish grin. 'I've got chocolate sprinkles.'

'Yay,' Brian mockingly said as he clapped his hands. 'If you're a really good boy, Mikey, a unicorn will come and shit out a chocolate cake.'

'Fuck off and have some dessert. You already missed dinner, you ungrateful ass' Michael retorted.

As the two of them bickered, Justin took the liberty of handling Brian's jacket and hung up their jackets in the little closet in the hallway. He quickly located Ted's jacket and shoved the pamphlet in his pocket.

'Where's Sunshine?' Debbie said in her typical loud and excited voice. When she spotted Justin, she hugged him fiercely, kissed him on the cheek and slapped him. 'You're late.'

'Sorry, Deb' he said, granting her an extra big smile so she would forgive him.

'Look at that face,' Deb laughed. 'How can anyone be mad at you'

In the background Michael and Brian simultaneously rolled their eyes. 'She's always mad at me and I'm her SON' Michael whined.

'Yeah,' Brian laughed. 'You're not blond though'

Ted got up to leave, rubbing his belly and complimenting Debbie's cooking. When he hugged her, he whispered, so that no one else could hear. 'Happy Mother's day, Deb. Thanks for everything.'

Debbie glowed, kissed his cheek and fondly looked at Ted as she wiped away the smudges her red lipstick left behind. 'Anytime'

He took their coat and left the tiny but warm house with a big smile on his face. Life was looking pretty good. He had found himself a nice group of friends, a good job and a hot boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, he felt pleased with his life.

Suddenly the door behind him opened and Emmett stood in the doorframe. He looked uncharacteristically serious and Ted frowned. 'I love you,' Emmett said. 'You know that, right?'

'Emm … of course'

'Good. There's not much I wouldn't do for you. Even if they are tough and they seem unfair' And with those words, he closed the door and left a bewildered Ted behind him.

'Well that was weird,' he said to himself. The air felt cool so he buttoned up his jacket and pushed his hands into the pockets. In his right pocket, he felt a small pamphlet. Curious, he took it out and read it. 'Gorman's homeless shelter' he read. 'Why do I have this? Where did I even pick it up?'

Justin stepped outside for a moment and lit up a cigarette. 'I heard it's the place to be tonight.'

'A homeless shelter?' Ted exclaimed. 'Why would that be a happening place?'

'Perhaps not for all,' he said. 'But something tells me that certain people would find certain things there that they need. Or perhaps something that's there needs them.'

He took a long drag and exhaled slowly.

Ted blinked rapidly as he stared at Justin. 'You should stop taking whatever Brian's giving you.' He uttered. 'It's affecting your judgement.'

'Perhaps,' Justin said, a bit pissed off. 'Or perhaps I see things others don't see. Or aren't willing to see.'

'Whatever,' Ted retorted tiredly. 'See you in the morning'

But something had shifted inside of Ted. Against all rational thought, he went to the shelter. He knocked carefully and waited for response.

'All full tonight,' a voice behind the door said.

'No, I'm not here to stay,' Ted spoke. 'I think I'm looking for ...' Even though every inch of his body knew he was looking for Blake, he resisted and refused to believe it. 'Someone. I'm looking for someone and I wondered if he was here. Can I take a look around?'

The man nodded and let him in, even if it was begrudgingly. 'Hurry up,' he said. 'It's late and I want to turn in.'

'What is this place?' Ted asked politely.

'A place where people can come if they have no place to go. I run it on my own. It's a tribute to my wife and my son. Both died in a car accident and I never knew … I never knew my son was gay because he was too scared to tell me. I found his diary and read that he thought I was going to throw him out because of his sexuality. I thought it was crazy but then I heard that more and more gay kids end up on the streets. So, I opened up my home to them.' He paused. 'It's not much and I don't have the necessary fund to offer them a lot … but I know that a roof over their heads and a hot shower is better than being out there where they can be robbed or worse.'

'That's very kind if you,' Ted said, humbled by the old man's sacrifice.

'Take a look around. I hope that you find what you're looking for. At least one of these poor kids will have a better place to stay.'

Ted nodded and started walking through the houses, occasionally apologising for waking up someone. And there in the last room he looked in, was Blake sitting on a dingy old couch with his head in his hands. His heart sank to his stomach and he didn't know whether he wanted to hold Blake, or slap him silly for leaving.

He sighed heavily, causing Blake to look up. 'What are you even doing here?'

In that moment, Blake burst into tears. Ted hurried by his side and gentle put his hand on his shoulder. 'Hey, come on,' he whispered. He put his fingertips on his chin and gently turned Blake's face so that he could look at him. 'My love, what's wrong?'

'You shouldn't be here,' Blake cried. 'I was trying to do the right thing.'

'What do you mean?' Ted asked. He'd seen Blake cry before but never had he heard this raw desperation in his voice.

'I'm bad news,' Blake whimpered. 'You're better off without me.'

'Nonsense,' Ted calmly said. 'How would it be better for me if I'm not with you?'

'The drugs, Teddy. I can't handle it. And I don't want to drag you into this.'

Ted kissed Blake's forehead gently and caressed the strands of hair on the back of his neck as he sobbed into Ted's neck. He wrapped his other hand around him and held him tightly. 'What happened to you?' Ted whispered. 'You were doing so well this morning.'

Blake snivelled and took large gulps of air. 'I just … they're all right.' He blurted out. 'Everyone that ever said that I'm not good enough for you, they're right. I'm not. Not like this. You deserve more than a junkie.'

'You're not a junkie,' Ted said, with a kind smile on his face. 'You're more than that. I see it. There's so much good in you … the drugs, that's just temporary. You'll kick the habit and rebuild everything. You can do this.'

'I can't,' Blake mouthed, his cries drowning out the words. 'I can't do this. I'm weak.'

'Yes, you can,' Ted said as he placed small kisses on Blake's cheek. 'I'll help you.'

'I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me Ted,' he whimpered. 'It's not fair.'

Ted traced long caresses along Blake's back, trying desperately to calm him down. 'I want to. I need _you _just as much as you need me.'

Blake sobbed and his whole body shook. 'I love you'

The words were spoken with such heartache than Ted felt a spark of electricity run through him. 'I love you too. Blake, do you trust me?'

'Yeah, of course.' Blake held onto Ted a little bit tighter, not quite believing that Ted had found him when he needed him the most.

'Then my love,' Ted whispered. 'Let me take care of you.'

'But Emmett …' Blake immediately stopped talking when he realized the mistake he was about to make.

Realization dawned on Ted and he cursed inwardly, finally understanding the moment he had with Emmett earlier. Ted let go of Blake, much to the young man's discontent, and stood up. He held out his hand to Blake and waited for the man to accept it.

When Blake shook his head, he sat down next to him and held his hand. 'I need you to listen to me. Emmett … he wants to protect me, I know that much. But I love you and you love me. I know you and you know me. And when it comes to us,' he paused. 'When it comes to us, the only people that have a say about it is you and me. All the rest, they can say whatever they want. But the two of us, we know the truth. Everything else doesn't matter.'

'I'm scared.' Blake whispered. 'I'm scared that my weakness will hurt you. And I don't want that.'

With his typical kind eyes, Ted looked at Blake and smiled. 'Then let our love make you stronger.'

He got up, dragging Blake along. 'Come on,' he whispered. 'Let me take you home.'

Ted hugged Blake tightly as Blake held on even tighter, if that was possible. He rested his head on Ted's shoulders and through his tears, he smiled. 'Home' he said. 'Sounds good.'

Noticing Blake was still shivering and felt cold to the touch, Ted took off his jacket and wrapped it around Blake's shoulders. 'There, that should get you to warm up. When we get home, I'm going to wrap you up in blankets and make you a nice hot cup of chocolate milk with a little bit of honey in it. How does that sound.'

Blake smiled. 'I like the sound of that. Blankets and warm milk. Mmmm' He closed his eyes and relished the touch of Ted's fingers running through his hair. He could feel the warmth of Ted's presence thawing the icy cold inside of him. He could feel the small flame of hope rekindling. 'I'm going to be better' Blake promised him. 'For you.' He paused. 'And me.'


End file.
